


The Most Joyous of Times

by 5H1TAKE



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Blood and Injury, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Spies & Secret Agents, birthday fic, gekkagumi oc(s), yes i'm that loser who writes themselves a fic for their bday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5H1TAKE/pseuds/5H1TAKE
Summary: Had they arrived 20 minutes earlier she’d be in deep shit; the late afternoon receptionist had done some overtime filing patient information in the archives. It’s a far cry from the image before October now; three young men, all of them some level of injured, bleeding out onto the floors her trusty janitors had cleaned and sterilised an hour ago.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Most Joyous of Times

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me! And to my gekkagumi OC, October! This was supposed to be for gekkagumi week happening in December but, well, I got excited. I'll just use this as a base to build on for a new day 7 fic lmao.
> 
> (An edit was made but don't sweat it.)

Click

Clack

Click

Clack

Click

Tock

Clack

Tick

Click

Tock

Tick 

Clack

Tock

Tick

Tock

_Fwump_

Office chair creaking slightly in protest at the sudden weight collapsing into it, its occupant rolls her shoulders carefully before flicking the heeled Mary Janes from her feet. Dark eyes scan over the stack of papers before her, and she lets out a huff of displeasure upon noting the code gracing the top-left corner of the topmost page. 

Turning to the right of her desk she fishes a landline from the adjoined cabinet before punching in number after number. Stilling for a moment, she waits for the line to connect.

“October. I-D, six, zero, one, one, zero, two, two, eight, four. Code, five, five, zero, one, three, nine, seven.” She pauses again, and the line goes dead silent on the other end, signally the privatisation of the connection.

A chirpy voice greets her on the other side. “Oh, October! Did you get the files? What do you think, will it work? Is it enough to do that much?”

“August,” October pinches the bridge of her nose, willing herself to remain level as she shifts her focus to the pigeons huddling on the windowsill of her office window. Autumn; at this time of evening she can watch how the Halloween lights slowly light up the city as it gets darker, “what have I told you about including me in your field missions?” 

The man on the other end goes silent for a beat, and then…

“Haha, don’t be like that, October. My plans never fail~ Come on, it’s just a little thing after all…”

There’s a dull thud from downstairs.

“You-!“

“Sorry?” She can almost hear him wince.

“Oi, October! You in or what?” 

Sucking in a deep breath, she hisses out a ‘you owe me’ to an apologising August before hanging up. She hops into a pair of black, solid joggers, cursing slightly when the smell of blood twinges at her nose as she pulls on her scrubs and descends to the clinic below the offices.

Had they arrived 20 minutes earlier she’d be in deep shit; the late afternoon receptionist had done some overtime filing patient information in the archives. It’s a far cry from the image before October now; three young men, all of them some level of injured, bleeding out onto the floors her trusty janitors had cleaned and sterilised an hour ago. She’d have to mop and clean it herself after this.

“Of course she’s here,” the smallest prods the one on the floor, the most grievously injured, with his boot, “it’s October, Octobers are always shut-ins.”

“I’m right here, December. If you’re not badly injured go wash your hands. Marshmallows are in the 3rd receptionists’ locker.” Approaching the trio, she turns to the tallest as December shuffles silently to the sinks. She doesn’t miss the way he brushes his shoulder against hers as he passes, a small peace offering in light of what August had dumped on her. 

“What? You know no matter what you say August will continue using the clinic as an after hours dumping ground and pick up site, right? You’ve known this the moment you were assigned to this area.” The taller man peels the bloodstained gloves from his hands, regarding October with little interest. 

‘Ever the sour one, huh?’ October bites her tongue before the remark can leave her mouth. She’d rather not agitate the man; basic combat training is nothing against April’s weapon of a body, even when that body is injured. Instead she crouches down to inspect the collapsed pile of a man. 

“I just wish August would give me more notice than a stack of mission files on my desk mere minutes before you two barge in.” He’s dead, hasn’t been for long, but definitely beyond the point of resuscitation. Not that that’s what her job would’ve been had he still been breathing. 

“So, who is it?” April shoots her a look, warning in his eyes. She simply sighs as she rises back to full height. “Classified, huh? Right then. Who’s injured where?”

It takes no more than an hour to patch up the two field agents, April receiving 2cm of stitches to help close up a deep incision on his back and December wincing lightly as she dabs antiseptic into a graze running from his knee through his shin through torn pants. 

Could this all have been done at their own hideout? Does August not have the training for this himself? October hushes her mind, reminding herself of her purpose: running a clinic for the Organisation after the hours of her public one, and providing its agents with the best care with the level of secrecy it demands. It’s what she’d been scouted for, spent 4 years training for, and yet…

‘No,’ she sternly reminded herself, ‘you’ve been here for 6 years now, you’ve fully taken over as “October” for 3 years now. Something as trivial as this is not important.’

“October?” Snapping out of her daze she finds December’s face in front of her, his hand moving to press a powdery marshmallow against her lips. She opens her mouth to accept the sweet, chewing as she packs up the equipment. It’s soft and gooey, not too sweet but not bland either. The powder quickly dissolves, leaving a sticky, claggy mass that soon disappears too.

_“After all, is a birthday not the most joyous of times for sweet things to be enjoyed?”_

She freezes when the voice from a past long repressed interrupts her train of marshmallowy thought, her hands coming to a halt at the sink. It takes more than October would like to admit to will her body back to moving, and she doesn’t miss the way she can feel April’s eyes on her as she works. 

Her wishes of him leaving it be would not go granted.

“You’re not usually this out of it, October.” His voice sounds nonchalant enough, but she can hear the silent question: are you hiding something? 

Placing the now clean utensils on the drying rack, she takes a quarter of a second to school her face before turning to April. “Mm, it’s been a long day. Back to back appointments and…” she throws a glance at the corpse on the floor, “that.” 

“October-“ he starts, but she simply raises a hand to stop him.

“Trust me, today’s just a bit… different. It’s not something you or December can help, it’s my own thing. Don’t worry, my performance will remain unaffected.” Walking over to December, she plucks a marshmallow from the bag he’s currently hugging to his chest and savours the sweet taste once more.

_“Of course, mother, but aren’t marshmallows, jam and icing a bit too sweet?”_

_“Nonsense! Oh, Erika, what shall we do with you?”_

_“Mother!”_

_“I’m kidding, dear. Happy birthday, Erika.”_

_Erika_

_Er_ ika

Eri…

…ka 

…

…

..

“...sei… sensei… SENSEI!”

Jolting upwards, her eyes take a moment to focus on the faces in front of her. A pair of hazel and a pair of olive peer at her from a short distance away.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and shaking the remaining drowsiness from her mind, October looks at the two quizzically. “Is something wrong? Did you two lose someone?”

October’s already beginning to peel the sheets off of herself, legs swinging over the edge of the couch and looking her pupils up and down for signs of harm when the younger of the two sighs a little, bonking the other on the crown of her head. “I told you not to wake her up so suddenly, Octo. We’re fine, sensei, we just wanted to-“

“To wish you a happy happy birthday!!! Happy birthday to you~ happy birthday to y- mmphhrr!” Octo is halfway through the song, her hair bouncing as she dances around the other before being pulled into a loose chokehold, her mouth covered. 

Stunned, it takes a few moments before a small smile plays on October’s features. “Now now, Tohba, let Octo go will you? Thank you both.” Stopping, she ponders for a second. “But how do you know that this day in October is my birthday?”

The two teens look at one another for a moment before Tohba slowly turns to her. “We said we wouldn’t tell but…”

“Apr- Chikage-san did.” Octo finishes, scratching at her cheek nervously and bumping her hip against Tohba’s lightly.

Suddenly, a decade late, realisation hits her. April had figured out her birth date that night and Utsuki Chikage had remembered it, even through the 5 years he spent MIA from her side of the Organisation. 

“Um, sensei, are you angry?” Octo’s smile falls, and she averts her gaze slightly. She’s still bumping against Tohba, something she’s done for a few years now. October guesses it’s a mechanism of sorts, Octo’s much less wired when sharing contact with Tohba. 

“Or is April wrong? He doesn’t have that clearance level, right?” Tohba’s gaze, unlike Octo’s, is unfaltering, piercing. It’s exactly the same gaze that had studied her when October had extended her hand to them no more than half a decade ago. “Agents aren’t supposed to share or know their birth dates, let alone other’s.”

Shaking her head lightly and smiling, October reaches forward and pulls her students to sit beside her. “I’m not angry, Octo, and the date is correct, Tohba. Thank you both.” She purposefully ignores the second half of Tohba’s question; that child has always been curious, but better that they not stumble upon some information not meant for them. October still feels warmth bubble from within her at her pupils’ presence on either side. “Thank you both, truly.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Tohba was now leaning heavily onto her right shoulder.

“What does that mean?” Automatically, she turns to Octo to give the explanation.

“Hisoka-san and Chikage-san should be here in five minutes.” October feels herself go rigid at that.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner? I’m still in my night clothes!” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're here: thank you so much for reading through all this brainrot of mine haha! I hope you like October, Tohba and Octo, and are curious to learn more. I don't really post about them on my main but if you'd like to talk about the inner workings and intricacies of the Organisation I am always free to exchange and discuss headcanons and the like :D
> 
> Twit: 5h1take


End file.
